Old Scars, New Blood
by cloudsandust
Summary: The name 'Tom Riddle' is on everyone's lips at Hogwarts. The infamous owner of that name is long gone but someone else has adopted that moniker and has ambitions dark enough to rival the original. Bad things are happening in the wizarding world. Harry and Hermione are both Aurors battling against the dark forces but will an old vendetta blind Harry's judgement of good and evil?
1. Some Scars Never Heal

**Chapter One**

**Some Scars Never Heal**

The two men appeared out of nowhere, a few yards apart in the deserted graveyard. For a second they stood with their wands pointed at each other's chest. It was a tense moment and a sign of how bad times were. Then, recognising each other they put their wands away beneath their cloaks and started walking briskly in the same direction.

'This is all too familiar. We're no better off now than we were twenty six years ago,' the shorter of the two muttered.

'This time it will be different,' replied Draco Malfoy.

The graveyard was the same one where Voldemort had murdered Cedric Diggory, almost thirty years previously. The men's long cloaks flapped in the icy December wind as they marched.

'I don't see why we're throwing our lot in with these people. Do you even know who they are?' asked Pettigrew, his rattish features dappled by the moonlight shining through the winter trees that lined their path. Malfoy laughed coldly.

'You're just as much of a spineless traitor as your cousin was I see.' The smaller man hissed and spluttered indignantly but was silence by a further look from Malfoy.

'I just don't see how anyone could possibly measure up to Volde-'

'Do not speak his name!' Malfoy interrupted, eyes blazing and Pettigrew recoiled at his outburst. 'The world is full of things you don't see, Pettigrew. You are fortunate that you are with me or your reception may not have been a good one,' Malfoy smiled nastily. 'It may not be good anyway. People don't forgive Pettigrew, they don't forget and your name is not a popular one.'

'Neither is yours Malfoy.' Draco's lips thinned at that remark but he didn't bother to defend himself. He didn't have to justify his actions to a worm such as Pettigrew. Those in Voldemort's inner circle had known him as a hero. It was bad fortune that most of them were now dead but a few remained and he'd always known the time would come when they'd honour him in glory. Tonight was that night.

They turned right onto a narrow track which led up the side of a large hill. The bright moonlight illuminated the burnt remains of the large stately house, once owned by the Riddle family. Now all that was left was a pile of ash and rubble. Pettigrew made a sound of disdain and Malfoy resisted the urge to wipe the man from the face of the earth. Pettigrew was a worthless wizard, but they needed all the numbers they could get.

'We were called here for this? An old ruin?'

'Obviously you are not party to the inner circle of confidence Worm-I mean-Pettigrew.' Malfoy smirked as he almost called his companion by his deceased cousin's name. He walked through the ruins, looking into the partially standing remains of the rooms. Their burnt out décor was old fashioned and he could still smell traces of old magic mixed with the lingering scent of the fire. He sighed inwardly, Voldemort was gone but tonight they would have a new leader. In the centre of the house a door frame stood, completely unsupported. Malfoy made a small grunt of satisfaction. It was exactly as he'd detailed. He walked through the doorway and disappeared.

Pettigrew gaped at the vanishing trick before realising it was magic. He looked around to make sure that no one had seen his foolishness and then cautiously followed after Malfoy.

He found himself in a large hallway that was dimly lit but sumptuously decorated. However, the dim light didn't quite conceal the peeling paint, shabby carpets and thick layer of dust that coated every surface. Even the portraits had abandoned their frames, seeking the more interesting surroundings of their pictures at other locations.

'Malfoy manor, I thought this had been removed from your family?' Pettigrew said as he recognised the coat of arms hanging above a huge stone fireplace. Then he regretted his impetuous remark. Malfoy stopped walking and turned to face the smaller man who quailed under his gaze.

'Indeed it was unlawfully taken from us but as you can see, it is mine once more.' Pettigrew was about to ask why it was that they had to enter through a magic door that transported them inside the property if it truly belonged to him but realised that this would be a very bad idea. Malfoy had a reputation for cruelty and cunning-he didn't want to anger him.

Malfoy led the way through a maze of corridors with Pettigrew trailing dutifully behind. The Ministry of Magic had indeed claimed the property from the Malfoys after Lucius had been sent to Azkaban. He'd expected that after his father was dead, the ownership would revert to him but he had been wrong. The Ministry weren't about to hand back a property that had been used by the dark lord. There were too many rebels around wishing to take his place and achieve what he'd never managed. They were drawn to the dark lord's memory like moths to a flame, Malfoy thought disgustedly. This was his home.

He'd been trying to Apparate into the property for almost ten years. Each time he tried he'd be brutally thrown back to his starting point as the Ministry's shield bounced him. Then, last week, ten years after he'd started trying to break in to Malfoy manor, he managed it.

That was the reason they were meeting here tonight. The Ministry's powers were waning. They hadn't renewed the spells on his property and he was willing to bet they were making other mistakes as well. He wasn't the only one who thought this.

Malfoy threw open the large double doors the led to his living room and the pair were bathed in light. The room emanated warmth after the cold dark corridors and a fire was roaring in the grate. The rest of the manor remained in darkness as although they suspected the Ministry were in trouble, they could still have spies watching the property. There may even be spies in this very room. Malfoy felt a cold bead of sweat slip down the back of his neck as he wondered for the millionth time if this had all been a set up. Had the security been relaxed to tempt him to return and begin the first organised rebellion? It would be a truly cunning plan and would make it so the Ministry could swoop in and arrest all the future members before they'd even started. Yes it was a very cunning plan. It was way beyond the minds of the Ministry he concluded.

He strode confidently across the room towards the group of people sat on a variety of chairs, huddling closer to the fire. He quickly counted and reached ten. That was far less than he'd been hoping for but others would join them when they were successful. He nodded grimly-this was only the start.

'Draco!' a simpering female voice cut through the subdued atmosphere and suddenly everyone turned to stare at him. Malfoy nodded at the elderly Dolores Umbridge. He should have known she'd crawl out of the woodwork for this. She'd be desperate to gain control of the Ministry once more. After Voldemort's defeat she'd claimed she had been acting under the Imperius Curse the whole time but unfortunately for her, her colleagues, and even her family, knew her too well and had all testified that she'd done nothing out of the ordinary. She was lucky that time in Azkaban was practically a breeze with the Dementors gone, although Malfoy suspected she was rather akin to a Dementor herself-feeding on turning happy thoughts into misery. Now he felt a greeting was expected of him.

'Good evening,' he began but was cut off as his companion finally entered the room.

'Wormtail!' a man spat out recognising the rattish features but not noticing that this man was younger…and alive.

'N-no,' Pettigrew stuttered, waving his hands frantically as if they would ward off any killing curses sent his way. 'I'm Alec Pettigrew, Peter's cousin.' This didn't do much to improve the mood and Alec Pettigrew was aware of it and shrank down into his cloak.

'Look at that! I bet he'd turn into a rat if he could!' Pansy Rooke shrieked and laughed high and cold in amusement. The others joined in the laughter.

'And then he'd go and rat us out to the Ministry,' said a man who hadn't laughed and the hilarity ceased instantly. Malfoy shrugged, peeved that his grand entrance had been superseded.

'He knows we'd kill him if he did that. There's nothing a man like Pettigrew loves more than his own life, he'll stick with us. When he proves his worth, we may even accept him into our ranks.' The others jeered at that unlikely event and Pettigrew looked even smaller, obviously wishing he'd never come. Malfoy would never admit it but he was glad he was here. He made their number up to a grand total of twelve and they needed every wizard they could get if they were ever going to be more than a laughable group who reminisced about the old days but never acted. He could not bear to be humiliated ever again.

'As I was saying,' he pointedly began, 'thank you friends for coming tonight. As you know, the Ministry is weakening and now is our time. Our time to take back what was ours and what should have been ours! It is time for a new dark lord to rise.'

'And who would that be?' a gravelly voice came from behind Malfoy and he spun to see a hooded figure leaning against the door.

'You dare to set foot inside the Malfoy's property?' he spat disdainfully, furious that this evening wasn't going as planned. Where was the glory? Why were his friends not welcoming him as their saviour and leader? The hooded man laughed.

'The Malfoy's property? This house belongs to me.' Draco felt the blood drain from his face. Could this be true? Was that the reason why his attempts at Apparition had finally worked? The man threw back his hood and stood up straight so his full height, well over six feet, could be fully appreciated. The wizards and witches hissed and moaned as they recognised Richard Marlowe, the head of the Aurors at the Ministry of Magic.

'We are done for! How could you be so stupid Malfoy?' Dolores Umbridge wailed, removing a handkerchief embroidered with kittens from her cardigan pocket and dabbing her puffy eyes in despair. Richard Marlowe smiled cruelly and Draco found himself wondering how a man like this had managed to find his way to head of department. Obviously it was by sheer courage and ruthlessness. Malfoy bitterly realised that these were two qualities he would never personally possess. Marlowe waited for their cries of despair and outrage to subside before he spoke again.

'You came here tonight to find a new dark lord.' No one said anything. Did he think they were stupid enough to admit to that now they knew who he was? 'I am here to accept that position.' There was a shocked silence.

'Ahem!' Marlowe turned to face Dolores Umbridge, politely inquisitive. 'Excuse me, sorry, but do you really expect us to believe that you, a leading member of the Ministry of Magic, has suddenly turned traitor and wishes to position himself as the future dark lord? I'm afraid you are sorely mistaken Mr Marlowe.' She gave her trademark girlish laugh.

'Oh but Ms Umbridge, that's exactly what I expect you to believe.'


	2. Friendship

**Chapter Two**

**Friendship**

Rose Weasley was a highly unusual girl in many ways. For one thing, she hadn't inherited the flaming red hair which characterised the Weasleys. Instead, her hair was naturally brown, but a few vanity spells she'd begged her mum to do over the summer had lightened it so now it was a pretty shade of dark blonde. She also differed from the Weasley family line with her brilliance in magic. That had been a gift from her mother's side.

It was past midnight and she was lying on her back staring at the ceiling. She glanced across at her bedside table where a neat stack of essays sat, ready for her to take to Hogwarts. She read the time off the luminous dial of the clock that stood next to her homework and sighed. It was the first of September, the day she returned to school.

Most years she looked forward to returning to school with anticipation but this year was different. Her best friend Maisie Fetters had moved to France over the summer and had transferred to Beauxbatons. To most people this may not seem like a big deal but Maisie had been her only friend. She was the only person who'd stuck by her even when everyone else called her an annoying know-it-all. And now she was gone.

Rose pushed herself upright, the bed covers falling in crumples around her waist. Was there anymore homework she could do? Any additional work that could be completed to take her mind off the end of the summer holidays? She sighed again. She'd already done way more work than was expected of her, and doing even more wasn't going to help her reputation. Was it her fault that she wanted to work hard, to be the best? Apparently this compulsion to work was another trait she'd inherited from her mother. But even she'd had friends whilst studying at Hogwarts. She'd even ended up marrying one of them. Rose wrinkled her forehead as she tried to imagine herself getting married. Perhaps she was doomed to end up like mad Aunt Muriel-a spinster for life.

She gloomily shrank back down underneath her duvet and sank into a fitful sleep, filled with the same dream, in which a handsome young man with a cruel smile taunted her.

'_I know your secret Rose Weasley, and I'm going to tell everyone about you.' The blonde boy with the cruel smile sneered at her and in her dream she felt tears of fear escape her eyes and run down her cheeks. _

'_You don't, you can't know!' he leant closer, far closer than Rose ever wanted to be to him, and whispered in her ear. Her eyes widened as she realised he did know. He knew what she'd kept secret for three years, what she still had to hide. 'You can't y-you musn't! Don't you know what will happen to me?' she stuttered but the boy just laughed in her face. _

'_I'll keep it secret if you do something for me.' She tried to look willing hoping it wouldn't be anything too humiliating. 'Close your eyes.' He told her and she squeezed them shut, her heart pounding as she waited for something terrible to happen. _

_Then Scorpius Malfoy kissed her._

As nightmares go, this was a bad one. Rose slowly opened her eyes and saw the morning light stream in through her window. She instantly knew she hadn't had a good night's rest and the finer details of her nightmare came flooding back to her. She pulled a face and instantly jumped out of bed and rushed to clean her teeth. Even kissing Scorpius Malfoy in a dream warranted lots of mouthwash. Not a dream, _a nightmare_, she corrected herself.

'Rose, your father's made you your favourite!' Her mother called up the stairs to her. The house they lived in was quite unusual for wizards. It was a modern detached house in a recently developed housing estate-the sort where they attempt to create a village feel. They were surrounded by muggles on all sides which was a source of great delight to her grandpa whenever he came to visit. It was a source of great annoyance to her dad who was often chided by her mother for using magic in plain view of the neighbours.

'All ready for school?' her mother asked as she slipped into the kitchen having showered and dressed in jeans and a polo shirt.

'Mum, do I really have to go this year? You and dad never did your NEWTs and you turned out okay.' Hermione pulled a worried face. She knew full well that Maisie's departure had left her daughter feeling isolated. She could certainly relate given how she'd often been treated at Hogwarts but it did worry her that Rose didn't seem to have any other friends.

'You're welcome to leave school if there's a dark wizard trying to take over the world who can only be stopped by you.' Ron called over from where he was cooking the eggs and bacon on the gas hob and Hermione shot him a glare.

'Not helpful Ron!' She turned kindly to Rose. 'You're in your sixth year! It's going to be great. Also there's something very special happening at Hogwarts this year. Trust me, it'll fly by.'

'What's happening at Hogwarts?' Hugo asked, marching into the kitchen.

'Never you mind, you won't be able to take part anyway,' Ron said, dishing up the eggs and bacon onto plates and leaving them to make their own sandwiches from the tower of toasted bread that was in the middle of the kitchen table. Hugo looked like he was about to burst.

'Ron! Don't tease your son, you know full well we aren't allowed to tell them,' Hermione chided him. Ron's ears reddened and he looked like he was about to argue when a flurry of feathers hit him in the side of the head.

'What the-' Five more tiny flying missiles dodged in through the kitchen window and began circling his head, hooting happily. Hermione couldn't suppress a smile as Ron began swatting at them angrily and they dodged his hands continuing to circle, hooting even more loudly. Pidgewidgeon had recently passed away having reached a grand old age, but not before breeding with a local wild owl. One day he'd turned up with the five miniature owls in tow and they'd been sponging off them ever since, Ron liked to say.

'Oh Ron, it's just like the old days, you, taking your anger out on innocent tiny birds-how romantic!' Hermione smirked and threw herself into Ron's arms, pretending to swoon.

'You know me. I'm a romantic at heart.' He said, missing her sarcasm and began planting a line of kisses up her arm eliciting feigned vomiting noises from the two teenagers. Hermione giggled and swatted him away.

'Are you okay to take the kids to the station today? I'm sorry I have to miss it but things are pretty hectic at work right now.' Hermione worked as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic.

'Yes, yes I'm sure I can handle it dear.' Ron tried to sound offhand but both the teenagers and their mother knew full well he was brimming with excitement at the chance to drive their muggle car all the way to London.

'You haven't done anything to the car, have you? No flying spells?' The teenagers snickered and Ron went red before removing the dirty dishes from the table and silently making a start on the washing up. Hugo mimed cracking a whip behind his back and their mother smiled before wagging a finger at him.

Rose was staring solemnly at the remains of her half eaten bacon and egg sandwich. She didn't feel like eating. Hermione's lips pressed together with worry. Even though she'd told Rose it was all going to be ok she felt powerless. It seemed like there was nothing she could do to help her daughter. There was one thing she suddenly remembered and rushed off into the garden to fetch something before reappearing in the doorway, keeping an item carefully concealed behind her back.

'Rose, we know it isn't your birthday yet but we couldn't really send this by owl.'

'And we know you're missing Maisie-' Ron chimed in and earned himself a glare from Hermione. 'So we thought we'd make sure you didn't go to Hogwarts alone.' Rose looked expectantly at her mother who held a ribbon wrapped box out towards her.

'You'd better open it quickly, I promised him he'd only have to stay inside for a few moments.' Rose took the box and looked at it blankly, something was moving inside. She undid the ribbon and lifted the lid. A small tiger striped, tabby face looked up at her hopefully.

'Ha! It looks like professor McGonagall!' Ron said, looking over her shoulder and getting a swat round the head with a tea towel from his wife. Rose inexplicably felt tears come to her eyes. The whole prospect of a school year without any friends had suddenly hit her. She tried to nod her thanks to her parents, to show she appreciated the gift but couldn't bear to stay in the kitchen any longer. She pushed her chair back and seized the kitten before running upstairs to her room.

She cried silently into its fur and the little ball of fluff licked her face which made her smile through her misery.

'Thanks,' she whispered to it. 'Now what am I going to call you?' she looked around her room, trying to find inspiration. Her family had a knack for giving their pets ridiculous names. She remembered Crookshanks who'd passed away when she was five. Apparently he'd been far more intelligent than your average cat. She regarded her kitten with a curious eye. It blinked innocently before tapping her face with a playful paw. 'I'm going to call you Somnio,' she murmured, looking into the cat's bright blue eyes. The little kitten purred its ascent and Rose felt a spark of hope ignite inside her.

She had a friend.


End file.
